


feel your hands on me

by FillorianHighKink



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Comfort, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, M/M, Massage, Massage With A Happy Ending, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 04, Quentin Coldwater Lives, comfort after a nightmare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28908561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FillorianHighKink/pseuds/FillorianHighKink
Summary: After a nightmare, Quentin admits that the thing that really sets Eliot apart from the Monster is how he uses his hands.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	feel your hands on me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Penknife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/gifts).



> For anyone in the Bulletproof Exchange coming into this one blind, here's a picture of Quentin:  
> 
> 
> And of Eliot:  
> 
> 
> There's a bit too much to summarize here, but the highlights: Quentin and Eliot lived a whole other timeline (50 years) together at 'the mosaic' that they remember despite timey-wimey things. This is set not long after Eliot spent several months possessed by a Monster. Oh and hey, they do magic with finger tutting (plus some other elements, depending).

Eliot wakes up to Quentin whimpering in his sleep. He reaches out to pull him into his arms, to wake him with gentle words and the warmth of his body, until his mind wakes up enough to remember their situation. This isn’t their life at the mosaic, where things were easy and his touch was nearly always welcome. No, Eliot’s spent the last six months locked inside his own mind while the Monster in his body followed Quentin like a lost puppy, terrorizing him with threats and surrounding him with murder and destruction at every turn. So no, waking Quentin up with his touch would possibly only serve to make the nightmare a reality. He’s really lucky Quentin is willing to share a bed with him while they relearn how to be together.

So instead, he withdraws his hand and calls out, “Q. Hey, Q.” Quentin continues to jerk in his sleep, looking distressed. “Quentin,” Eliot says more firmly, and Quentin’s eyes snap open, fixing Eliot with that frightened look he’d been dreading.

“Q. You’re alright. You were dreaming,” Eliot says, keeping his distance and trying to sound reassuring. “You’re in the penthouse. With me.”

“Eliot,” Quentin says with a relieved sigh. He burrows over into Eliot suddenly, surprising him. “Sorry, I—Will you touch me?”

Eliot doesn’t have to be asked twice. He winds his arms around Quentin’s torso, pulling him half on top of him, tangling their legs together. Quentin makes a pleased noise and tucks his face in the space between Eliot’s neck and his shoulder. He can feel Quentin still trembling slightly. “It’s okay; you’re okay,” he murmurs, running a hand soothingly over Quentin’s arm.

A few minutes pass, and slowly Eliot feels Quentin’s tense muscles start to relax, his body going pliant in his hold. “Thank you,” Quentin mumbles, twisting a little in Eliot’s grip. “Sorry for waking you up and, y’know, being so demanding.”

“This is hardly demanding,” Eliot says, already dreading the moment Quentin will pull away. “I’m happy to touch you anytime and any way you want me to. But only when you’re ready.”

Quentin pushes up, his elbow digging a bit uncomfortably into Eliot’s chest, but Eliot does his best to ignore it as Quentin searches his eyes. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course,” Eliot answers, pouring sincerity into his words and his gaze.

Quentin sinks back down, reaching up a hand to rest over Eliot’s on his arm. “I just—I miss your hands. The Monster, he—he liked to get close to me, but he didn’t know how to use your hands. Which I mean, is a blessing. I didn’t want him to act like you, that would’ve been so much worse.”

“But if I touch you with my hands, you’ll know that it’s me.”

Quentin lets out a long breath. “Yeah.”

Eliot shifts his grip so that Quentin is more next to him than on top of him. “I could give you a massage,” he suggests, almost making it a question. He sits up and moves his hands to Quentin’s shoulders, squeezing lightly. “It might help you sleep better.”

Lying this close, with Quentin’s eyes so intent on his, Eliot really wants to lean in for a kiss. He doesn’t think Quentin would stop him. But he also doesn’t think that’s what Quentin wants most right now.

“I um, yeah. I think I’d like that,” Quentin says. “If you really don’t mind.”

Eliot smiles softly. “Lie on your stomach. Do you mind taking off your shirt?” Quentin shakes his head, already reaching for his hem. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes a minute to locate, but Eliot soon finds the oil he’d absently decided to bring back from Fillory, grateful now to have it. He pours some into his hand and warms it between his palms as he crawls back onto the bed, straddling Quentin.

“Just relax,” he says as he reaches down, smoothing his hands over the expanse of Quentin’s back. He really is as beautiful as ever, all hard lines and lean muscle. Eliot traces the Q of his tattoo with his fingers, smiling at the way Quentin wriggles under his touch. It’s not hard to find the knots of tension along his shoulders, down his back. “Tell me if I press down too hard,” he instructs, and waits for Quentin’s nod before he sets to his task, working the heels of his palms into those pressure points while Quentin groans and moans, every sound going straight to Eliot’s dick.

He takes his time working his way down to Quentin’s lower back, the vaguely floral scent of the oil filling his nostrils and giving him something to focus on other than the way Quentin is squirming underneath him.

“You can take those off,” Quentin says, muffled against the pillows, as Eliot’s fingers skim under his waistband.

“The pants?” Eliot asks.

“Everything.”

Eliot swallows and nods, though Quentin isn’t looking at him. He grips the stretchy bands of Quentin’s sleep pants and his boxers together, pulling them off in one smooth movement once Quentin raises his hips. With Quentin’s beautiful ass on full display, he can’t help but stare, but he snaps himself out of it when Quentin turns his head to see what the holdup is.

More oil, and then Eliot savors the feeling of working over Quentin’s ass, gripping him, rolling the heels of his palms over his skin and feeling it shift beneath them. Then he spreads his hands and smooths down, loving the way his hands can span the entirety of Quentin’s ass.

He’s tempted to dip his fingers between his cheeks. He knows what Quentin likes; he _remembers_. But that’s not what Quentin asked for, so he skims his fingers along his crease and on down his leg, working on the back of his thighs next.

He works his way down Quentin’s legs, lifting them and stretching them just like he would for a proper massage, remembering techniques he hasn’t used in years to keep himself distracted from his desire to jump on top of Quentin.

“You can turn over now,” Eliot says, backing up and off the bed. A moan falls from Quentin’s lips as he rolls over languidly, drawing attention to his hard cock. Eliot doesn’t stare—instead, he shifts his focus to Quentin’s eyes, which are hooded and filled with all sorts of promise.

“Will you let me kiss you?” Quentin asks, and Eliot feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. He scrambles to do just that, and pretty soon they’re making out, Quentin rucking up Eliot’s shirt and feeling up _his_ back.

“Are you actually gonna let me finish your massage?” Eliot asks teasingly, running his fingers over Quentin’s sides.

“Mm, maybe,” Quentin says, looking very pleased with himself. “You could finish it naked, right? I mean, now that I’m lying face-up I’d certainly appreciate the view.”

Eliot laughs as he stands up, pulling his shirt off and pushing his sleep pants and boxer briefs to the floor. “Y’know, I thought we were taking it slow.”

“I said I needed some time,” Quentin says, his eyes sweeping over Eliot hungrily. “I’ve had some time. Now it’s time for you to feel me up some more.”

“Christ,” Eliot murmurs. Quentin goes to reach for his own cock and Eliot moves forward to stop him. “No, that’s for me.”

Quentin grins. “I guess you don’t need any more time either.”

Eliot growls and moves back in, blanketing Quentin with his naked body, feeling the heat of Quentin’s full, thick cock against his hip. They kiss hungrily, desperately, until Eliot’s just as hard as Quentin is and they’re rutting against each other.

A thought occurs to Eliot and he moves off Quentin. “No, where are you going?” Quentin says, whining in a way that sounds somehow new and familiar at the same time.

“I’m finishing your massage. Didn’t you want my hands?”

Quentin moans as he watches Eliot slick up both palms with oil, spreading it up and over his fingers slowly under Quentin’s watchful gaze. He nudges Quentin’s legs apart to sit on his knees between them, then nudges them further apart still. Quentin gets the idea then, shifting his hips down the bed and moaning as Eliot reaches down to tease against his rim. He grips Quentin’s cock with his other hand, loving the smooth slide the oil makes. Quentin loves it too, if his noises are any indication. His first finger pushes in with little resistance, which is a little surprising.

Quentin breathes a laugh, reading his expression. “I know. Just because I haven’t been with you doesn’t mean I haven’t been _thinking_ about you.”

The thought goes straight to Eliot’s cock. Something feral lights up inside him at that, and he demands every detail of how Quentin’s been fingering and _fucking_ himself, jesus fuck.

Quentin gives him the details while Eliot adds more fingers, including, “I have this vibrator, it’s not nearly as big as you, but when it hits inside just right and I turn up the vibration—” The rest of his sentence chokes out as Eliot purposely hits inside him _just right_ and speeds up the motion of his fist over Quentin’s cock.

“Yeah? Go on,” Eliot teases.

“ _Fuck_ , El. I forgot how—”

“—talented?”

“— _ridiculous_ you are in bed.”

This doesn’t bother Eliot. He’s pretty sure they mean the same thing. And he loves to see Quentin smile, especially when it morphs into an open-mouthed moan as Eliot works him over, tightening his grip as he strokes his cock and slides his fingers in and out rhythmically. Quentin’s body starts spasming, his muscles flexing as he cries out, clutching at the sheets, and comes over Eliot’s fist. Eliot keeps fingering him while he shoots, then pulls out to fondle his balls and continues pumping his cock, taking in the way Quentin’s whole body is flushed.

Eliot doesn’t especially want to let go, but when Quentin hisses from oversensitivity, he moves his hands away, sitting back on his haunches.

“God, El. That was so good,” Quentin says, his voice lazy and rough, as he reaches a hand out to graze over Eliot’s knee. “I want to get you off now.”

Eliot grins, gripping his own cock. “My hands are good for more than just your satisfaction, you know.”

Quentin whines. “No, c’mon. I’ve been fantasizing about sucking your cock for days.”

“Days?” Eliot asks.

Quentin rolls his eyes. “Okay, the entire two weeks we’ve been sharing a bed.”

And well, who is Eliot to argue with that? At Quentin’s insistence, he moves up the bed on his knees, and Quentin shifts up so that he can take him into his mouth while he lays back against the pillows.

After a little bit of teasing and buildup, Quentin sucks him with the same enthusiasm he’d had that first time at the mosaic. The details solidify Eliot’s memories: Quentin salivating over his dick, working him over so eagerly that it just turns Eliot on more. His hands go to Quentin’s hair, fingers slotting into place between the strands while Quentin moans over his dick. Without planning to, Eliot starts rambling about how good it is, how hot Quentin’s noises had been from the start of the massage, how Eliot couldn’t help but imagine his cock splitting open the perfect cheeks of Quentin’s ass as he moved his hands over it.

All of this only seems to fuel Quentin, who reaches up to cup Eliot’s ass in his hands, squeezing over the muscle as he bobs over his cock. Every lick and suck seems to spark more heat inside him, and before long Eliot can feel pressure building in his spine. “Fuck, Q. I’m close.” Quentin squeezes his ass again in silent permission, another familiar-but-not gesture that has Eliot remembering all the times he’s come in Quentin’s mouth, and then he’s a goner. He moans out his release as he spills over Quentin’s tongue, jerking with the deluge of pleasure after all this time waiting and wanting.

After his spent cock slips from Quentin’s lips, Eliot shifts down to kiss him, and then they both make a concerted effort to perform the spells to clean off their bodies and the sheets. Eliot stretches out on his side of the bed, lying on his side to face Quentin, and they twine their fingers together.

“God, I missed you,” Eliot admits, kissing Quentin’s temple.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” Eliot opens his mouth to protest, but Quentin cuts him off. “Not for this—I mean, two weeks felt much longer, but I mean. Saving you.”

“You were literally doing the best that you could,” Eliot says. Quentin looks doubtful. “ _I_ know that, even if you don’t.”

“Yeah, okay,” Quentin says, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

“You wouldn’t let me say it, in my apology,” Eliot begins, and Quentin’s breath catches. “Will you let me say it now?”

“Don’t feel like you have to—”

“I love you,” Eliot says firmly, squeezing Quentin’s hand.

Quentin whimpers and moves in for a kiss. “I love you, too. God, so fucking much. You don’t know what it was like—”

“I know. And I know I still look like him. So just, be honest with me. If I do something that reminds you of him, or you need space for a bit. I won’t go far, but I can do that.”

Quentin reaches for his other hand and holds it up to the middle of his chest. “I don’t need space. I need you here.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the fic, please consider leaving a comment! <3


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